The warehouse smelled like oil and dust and old metal.
Nothing moved.
The silence was wrong—too deliberate, stretched thin like a wire about to snap. The gun in Silas's hand was not raised, not shaking. It rested there casually, as if it belonged, as if it had always been meant to end up in this space between them.
MK sat bound to the chair, her wrists red, her shoulders slumped forward. She was conscious. Breathing. Her hair fell into her face, and when she lifted her head, her eyes found Shriya instantly.
They locked.
Shriya felt her knees weaken.
MK was thinner. Paler. There was something wrong in the way she held herself, like every movement cost too much. Still, her eyes softened when they met Shriya's, as if this—this nightmare—was a relief compared to being alone.
"Don't come closer," Silas said calmly.
Shriya stopped.
Her heart was slamming so violently she was afraid he could hear it.
"Let her go," she said, keeping her voice level with an effort that felt inhuman. "You've proven your point."
Silas tilted his head slightly, studying her like a puzzle that amused him. "I needed to know," he replied. "Whether you'd choose obedience… or love."
MK's breath hitched.
Shriya swallowed. "You already have your answer.you didn't have to do this,let her go and we can finish the wedding"
"Yes," Silas said.
He looked at MK then—not cruelly, not kindly. Assessing. As if she were currency whose value had finally been confirmed.
MK shifted weakly in the chair. Her voice, when it came, was hoarse but steady.
"Shrii… it's okay."
The words weren't loud.
They weren't desperate.
They were acceptance.
Shriya's chest caved in.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head. "Don't—don't say that."
MK managed the smallest smile. The kind she wore when she was trying to protect someone else from her own fear.
Silas exhaled slowly.
"You see?" he said. "She understands the cost. Do you?"
He reached down and cut the bindings.
The sound of the blade slicing through rope was sharp, obscene.
MK swayed as she stood, unsteady on her feet. For a second she didn't move, like she wasn't sure her body would obey her anymore. Then she took a step.
Toward Shriya.
Shriya moved instinctively, arms already lifting, already breaking the rule she'd been holding onto for days. She was almost there. Almost.
That was when the sirens screamed.
Red and blue lights flashed against the warehouse walls, spinning chaos into the shadows. The sound was sudden, violent—authority crashing into the moment like a threat.
Silas stiffened.
Panic flickered across his face for the first time.
He knew what this meant. Not prison. Not trial.
Disgrace. Court-martial. A punishment worse than death.
"You tricked me," he snarled, his control shattering.
The gun came up.
Shriya saw it happen in fragments.
The way Silas's eyes locked onto her.
The way his finger tightened.
The way MK was already moving.
"No—!" Shriya screamed.
The shot tore through the air.
MK stepped fully into it.
The impact knocked the breath from her body. She gasped—a sound of surprise more than pain—and then she was falling, collapsing forward into Shriya's arms.
Warmth soaked through fabric instantly.
Blood. Too much blood.
"No, no, no—MK—" Shriya choked, dropping to her knees as she caught her, hands pressing uselessly against the wound. "Stay with me. Please. Please."
MK's eyes fluttered. Her lips parted.
"Shrii…" she whispered, barely audible. "I'm here."
That was the last thing she said.
Something inside Shriya snapped cleanly in two.
She didn't remember raising the. gun.
She didn't remember aiming.
She remembered the sound.
One shot. Clean. Final.
Silas fell where he stood, his body hitting the concrete with a dull, empty thud. There was no hesitation. No second thought.
The sirens were closer now. Doors burst open. Footsteps thundered in.
"Shriya!" Jesse screamed from somewhere far away.
Hands grabbed her shoulders. Someone was shouting. Someone was calling for medics.
Shriya didn't hear any of it.
She was holding MK.
Her hands were slick with blood. Her vision blurred. The world narrowed until there was nothing but MK's face, slack and pale in her arms.
"I'm here," Shriya whispered desperately, rocking her. "I've got you. I won't leave. I promise."
Darkness crept in at the edges of her vision.
The last thing she felt was MK's weight slipping as everything went black.